


Skipping Stones

by on_mars



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parent John Winchester, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Destiel - Freeform, Dreams, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29804508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/on_mars/pseuds/on_mars
Summary: Dean wakes up next to Castiel. He doesn't remember how he got there.[i'm very very bad at summaries]
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> can't believe i'm writing destiel fics in 2021 i definitely haven't seen that coming. Anyway I hope you enjoy it.  
> The title comes from Dan Reynolds and Hans Zimmer song for Dan's documentary 'Believer', i'd recommend watching it if you haven't :)
> 
> If I stay on schedule (i probably won't but I promise I'll try), chapters will be posted every tuesday/wednesday! (there probably won't be more than 5/6 chapters :))

Dean doesn’t really know how he got there. He just remembers waking up next to him. They were muffled in a duvet and he was sleeping, peacefully. He remembers smiling too. It’s not often he gets to see him so relaxed, so still, it practically never happened before now that he thinks about it. He knows that because he’s used to watching him out of the corner of the eye, when he thinks he’s not looking. He watches him. And he sees it. The pain. The doubts. The fear. He sees it all. They’re always there. They fill his eyes like a storm invading the sky.

But there’s been something else in his eyes lately, something that almost feels like comfort, appreciation, maybe even like affection. It’s always there. But Dean doesn’t think anything of it. Ignoring it seems like the best way to act. Maybe it isn’t. Dean doesn’t really know. But for now he decides that it doesn’t really matter.

Because he’s here now. He’s here and he’s good. He’s fine. They’re both fine, and his eyes have never been brighter, all trace of nervousness gone.

Dean doesn’t really know how he got there. He just remembers waking up next to him. And maybe that’s okay.

Castiel was sleeping. He was wearing Grey pajama pants and an old black AC/DC tee-shirt. It’s the first thing Dean recognized when he woke up because it was his. Sam bought it for him for his 22 nd  birthday. Castiel’s hair was disheveled, he had a beard and even while sleeping, a small smile was stretching his lips. He seemed happy. So Dean decided to be happy too. And maybe he should have freaked out. Maybe he should have jumped out of bed and searched for clues. Maybe he should have asked questions. Maybe he should have done a lot of things differently. But then Castiel’s eyes opened and his smile only got bigger and he was kissing him oh so softly with a promise of pancakes as breakfast and in that moment, Dean decided he didn’t care. He didn’t care where he was. He didn’t care if this was a dream. Hell he didn’t care if he was dead. Because he was here. With Cas. And this Dean seemed to have gone past the shame and the internalized homophobia and all the crappy things his dad used to make him believe as a kid, and he wasn’t going to ruin that.

Because everything seemed to be okay in this world. Everything seemed to be on point. It was easy. Loving Cas, living with him, acting on his feelings, it was easy. So who cared if it was real? It was real for Dean. And maybe that’s enough.

It wasn’t though. And soon enough it would all come crashing down.

But days turn into weeks and Dean gets used to wake up next to Cas. Like he is now. They stayed up late last night watching movies and Dean is not surprised to see it’s past eleven. He smiles softly at the slumped body still nestled against him, he hesitates for a few seconds but eventually runs his right hand through his hair a few times, just because he can now, that’s okay. He repeats the gesture another time and lets out a small laugh when a groan escapes Castiel’s lips.

“Too early.” Castiel mumbles against his neck.

“Hey there grumpy.” Dean’s voice is low and his lips brush against Castiel’s hair as he speaks. He tries to extricate himself from his embrace but his grip is tight and Dean finds himself falling backwards again, Castiel’s left arm keeping him from moving.

“I thought I said it was too early.” Castiel repeats and Dean can note a glint of amusement in his voice.

“Alright alright I got it sleepyhead.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, or maybe hours. Dean doesn’t really keep up with the time anymore. He doesn’t care. Time seems to be on their side for once. There’s no crisis, no urgent situation, nothing to be scared about, nothing to run away from. They’re okay.

They still get up after a while though. They share a big breakfast and Dean lets Castiel go about his business, which means volunteering in different charities throughout the city. It didn’t come as a surprise to Dean when he learned about it. Castiel’s always been like that after all, trying his best, helping people. Dean stays busy too, fixing cars with Bobby, with Sam, and when he gets back home after a long day at work, the simple sight of Castiel brings a smile to his face.

“How was your day, sunshine?” He says softly, pressing their lips together, his right hand in the back of his neck and the other sliding under his trench-coat.

“Dean?” Castiel says, his voice low and weirdly devoid of any emotions. Dean takes a step backwards and that’s when it hits him. Something is wrong. Castiel’s head is tilted in confusion, his eyebrows are furrowed, and the tired features of his face leaves little to the imagination about the state of restlessness he seems to be in. But that’s not what bothers Dean. No. What strikes Dean is his _eyes_. They’re filled with worry again, with worry and anger and fear. The storm is back.

“What’s… What’s going on, Cas?”

“Dean, you’re… You’re dreaming. This isn’t real.” He says. “Listen I don’t have time to explain but you need to go. Now. You need to-”

“Dean? Honey what’s going on?” Dean spins round and his throat becomes so tight he’s not sure he can breathe. Because there are two Castiel in front of him. One has his arm wrapped around his back, seemingly very alarmed – and rightly so – to see another version of himself staring back at him, the other is looking at him in confusion until a flash of realization crosses his eyes and his face softens as he speaks.

“Dean. You need to listen to me. This isn’t real. You were hunting. With Sam. You remember? This djinn, it got y-”

“What the fuck are you talking about, man?” Dean is confused but mostly mad. He takes a step backwards from the two versions of Castiel and closes his eyes fiercely. His head is spinning.

“A djinn, Dean.” Castiel repeats. “It got you. It causes hallucinations so huge that your min-”

“I know what a fucking djinn is, Cas!”

“Then you know I’m right. You’re in Oklahoma, Dean. In a cave. Sam just found you there but there isn’t much time left. Dean you need to believe me or you’ll die, and I can’t let that happen.” Castiel says and there’s a solemnity in his voice that Dean doesn’t like. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“He’s lying.” The other says, his voiced filled with rage. “You need to kill him, he’s a shapeshift-”

But Dean doesn’t hear the rest of his sentence. Castiel lifts his forefinger and touches his forehead and it’s like he’s falling. The world around him becomes distorted in front of his eyes until it disappears completely. Suddenly there’s darkness. Only darkness. The last thing Dean registers is the memory of a hard fight in a cave somewhere in Oklahoma, the sound of Sam’s voice asking him to be careful, a blow on his skull and the smell of blood, dirt and rot.

And then he blacks out.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s dark. There’s a dull ache in Dean’s forehead like a drill boring a hole through his skull. It’s dark and quiet and for a few minutes the only thing Dean can hear is the labored sound of his own breathing. There’s a weight pushing him down to the ground and just as he feels that the ground will swallow him up, a sharp pain invades his skull and his surroundings become clearer, the silence less still.

There’s a regular tone of a machine nearby ringing in his ears like a far-away sound, almost as if his head in underwater and the noise vibrates behind his ears. There’s a voice, too. And that voice, Dean recognizes it instantly. It’s Sam’s. But he’s not alone. Other voices can be heard. Some sound familiar, others not so much. Either way they’re all muffled and Dean doesn’t quite comprehend what is being said. He still follows them through the darkness and as he lets himself be carried along, his other senses start to improve as well, in a matter of seconds.

The sense of smell is one. It’s bitter, sour, and his nose wrinkles at the smell of antiseptics and bleach and hand-sanitizers and chemicals. There’s only one place with such an overwhelming scent like this one. Hospitals. Dean’s always hated hospitals. He tries to think of what happened but there’s still this dull ache in his skull and he feels trapped inside his own head.

Then there’s the sense of touch. He becomes more aware of his body and the way his limbs feel against the mattress. The sheet brush his skin and a light gust of wind makes him shiver. There’s a sharp pain in his left arm and if Dean focuses enough, he can feel the needle sinking in his skin. Dean shakes his head a little bit to the right and the light and soft touch of the pillow on his cheek comforts him. He opens his eyes slowly, his eyelids still heavy.

His vision is blurry at first but then it becomes clearer. He can see Sam, staring at him with a small smile and a worried expression painted all over his face. He looks down and then he can see the white sheets covering his body, the black blanket at his feet and his dark red jacket carefully folded on a chair next to the door.

“Dean? Dean!” Sam’s voice drags him out of his own head. “Are you okay?”

“What?” Dean marks a pause and stares at his brother. “Yeah I’m- I’m fine. What happened?”

“You don’t remember? We were in Oklahoma, for a case. A djinn. You wanted to check on the family’s victim and I don’t know how you ended up there but then I found you in that cave and you were-”

Sam is still talking but Dean doesn’t listen to him no more. The words are here and Dean hears them but he doesn’t register what his brother is saying. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s tired, he doesn’t know if it’s because he still feels weak or just because he doesn’t want to hear them. Either way, his eyes are wide open and panic settles in his body and his face is contorted with pain, fear but mostly shame and embarrassment.

Because he knows now. He remembers. He remembers it all. He remembers hearing the brother of the victim talking about how his sister always seemed to hang out near a creepy desolated building near a forest with his friends. He remembers going there, not really knowing what to expect and he remembers finding the said-sister and two other boys injected with poison, sleeping. One of them seemingly already dead. He tried to fight but was overpowered and poisoned as well.

And he remembers the dream. He remembers living a quiet and peaceful life in the country-side and fixing cars as a living. He remembers Bobby, he remembers Sam but mostly he remembers Castiel. He remembers everything. The soft touches, the lingering glances, the hugs, the kisses, the tight embraces, the hot nights filled with passion and tangled limbs. There’s a fire burning in Dean’s chest and he closes his eyes fiercely for a few seconds, swallowing with difficulty. He clears his throat and chooses to ignore the lump in his throat and the buzz going through his body.

“Where’s Cas?” He suddenly asks, afraid to see his friend stepping in the room through this very door.

“Cas? Hum he’s- Well to be honest I don’t really know. I managed to wake up the girl and one of the boys but you were so deep in your- in your dreams it’s like you didn’t even want to wake up from it, Dean. So I- I called him. Figured he would be able to get you out. And he did but then he just- he just vanished. You should have seen his face he was- Well let’s say he seemed very preoccupied. I think Claire called him though, she needed help on some werewolves case with Jody. I think he went and helped them.” Sam’s voice is filled with worry and concern which only makes the numbness in Dean’s body worse. He stays silent and doesn’t answer anything. What can he say? _The universe seems to be against me because that_ _djinn_ _son of a bitch thought it was funny to make me live in a universe where I’m seemingly very infatuated with our best-friend of all people and I know it’s supposed to reflect our deepest desires but trust me when I say that that’s not what’s happening right now._

It couldn’t be. The whole idea was just so wrong and that Djinn had read it all wrong. Castiel is his best-friend. He loves him, sure, just like any other best-friend would do and their relationship is deep and maybe weirdly intimate and Dean’s not really afraid to admit it. After all, the dude did drag him out of hell, their relationship was bound to be pretty special from the start, right? But to say that Dean’s deepest desire was to live some kind of boring/white picket fence kind of life with him was wrong and laughable. That Djinn just got it all wrong and mistook their abnormal and supernatural friendship for something bigger. Here. That was the only sensible explanation.

“Although he did tell me to call him once you woke up. Said he wanted to talk to you about something. I can give him a call if you wan-”

“No!” Dean’s voice is much louder than what he expected and he looks away as Sam raises his eyebrows in confusion. “Just- That’s not necessary man. I’ll call him myself. Or shoot him a text y’know. Let’s get back home man and stop by a fast-food or something I’m starving.”

“You sure?” Sam asks. “The nurse did say you should take it slow for the next few days. You were pretty out of it man.”

“I’m good, Sam.” Dean insists. “Seriously.”

He gets out of bed and takes the clothes Sam hands to him. He locks himself in the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror for a few seconds. He seems tired. Exhausted, even. The dark rings under his eyes prove it and Dean closes his eyes fiercely another time, not willing for his mind to get gobbled up by this crazy fantasy universe he just left. But when he opens his eyes once again, he realizes it’s too late. His thoughts are already besieging his mind.

_Dean sighs in front of the mirror and gets closer to it to have a better look of that grey hair poking out at the side. He runs his right hand through his curls a few times and jumps with surprise when two strong arms wrap themselves around his waist. Castiel is looking at him through the mirror, a small smile settled on his face._

“ _Stupid grey hair.” Dean mumbles._

“ _I like your grey hair.” Castiel says while pressing his lips on his neck. Dean smiles and looks down at their intertwined fingers. He turns around and places both of his hands in the back of Castiel’s neck and kisses him, right on the lips. His best-friend is kissing him back with just as much passion and in that moment, Dean thinks there’s nothing that can go wrong. “You’re just getting older.”_

“ _It’s kind of sexy to be honest.” Castiel adds and Dean huffs out a laugh._

“ _What does that make you then?”_

“ _A 400 million old angel of the lord. I’ve seen it all, from the_ _very_ _creation of the universe. And yet you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”_

“ _Alright stop being so fucking sappy.”_

“ _You love it.”_

“ _I do.”_

“Dean?” Sam asks behind the bathroom’s door, dragging him out of his daydream. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean says, closing his eyes and ignoring the weird sensation in his stomach. “Yeah. I’m good.”

He steps out of the bathroom, takes his backpack with one hand and leaves the room without looking back.

“You coming or what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't be afraid to tell me it sucks i'm trying to get back to writing but it turns out it's much more complicated that what I expected and i'm not used to write spn fics i feel like Dean and Castiel are very complex characters & sometimes i have trouble writing them in an accurate way (probably because some of their arcs in the series didn't make much sense to me + there were tons of different writers involved so yeah can be tricky)
> 
> anywaaay hope you liked the second chapter (sorry it's very short) :) (next chapter will be posted as scheduled next wednesday/maybe tuesday)
> 
> you can scream at me on [tumblr](https://on-maars.tumblr.com/)


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